


This Other Jack

by anxiousgeek



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Dark, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-27
Updated: 2008-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-14 23:43:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiousgeek/pseuds/anxiousgeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This other Jack hasn't lived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Other Jack

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [](http://community.livejournal.com/sjficathon/profile)[**sjficathon**](http://community.livejournal.com/sjficathon/) For [](http://venom-69.livejournal.com/profile)[**venom_69**](http://venom-69.livejournal.com/) who wanted _I'd like a nice smutty fic that has them_

This Other Jack.

As Sam had explained it to him, there is an alternate reality for every decision he did and did not make. Which terrified him, considering all the bad decisions he could’ve made, had came so close to making. He took comfort in all the good decisions though, Sam being one of them, and he had to wonder if she had ever made a bad decision. Then he would think of all those different realities, with different Sam’s and some had to have been the product of bad decisions.

Not his Sam though.

But through all of that he was standing in front of another Jack O’Neill who had made a different decision a very long time ago and had never slept with Sam Carter.

Definitely a bad decision on this other Jack’s part, and while he could argue the risks all he wanted, Jack knew he could never win until he had touched every part of Sam Carter.

There was a brief moment when the future of the SGC was undecided, his own team was undecided, and when mostly they were glad to be alive, mostly concerned about the loss of Sha’re and Skarra. It wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had, but kissing Sam Carter as a way of an apology for being an asshole was the best decision he’d ever made.

This other Jack had no idea. Had no idea of how soft Sam’s lips were. How soft her body was. How hot. How loud she could scream when they were alone, or how quiet she could be when they had neighbours.

This other Jack had never found himself at the mercy of an angry Sam in quite the same way he had. Teeth suck into his neck, his shoulder, pulling at his nipples, pushing him up against tables or down on the bed so she could lower herself onto him without so much as a ‘please, Jack’. Fucking him into a daze, not always letting him come inside her -- or come at all -- but always, always making sure she got what she needed, what she wanted, however she could get it. She would hit him, slap him, punish him when he fucked up and then cry when she came, thinking she’d gone too far.

She never went too far.

This other Jack had never been on his knees in her lab, hidden from the security cameras by the lab bench, Sam leaning over him and the bench, BDU pants open and underwear simply pushed aside, his fingers deep inside her body and his tongue flickering at her clit, making her come while she had to remain composed for the cameras. Trying to keep her face perfectly still while her heart was racing and her body contracting, her hips aching to arch towards his fingers.

This other Jack didn’t know what it was like to make love to Sam Carter. Off world or at home. Quiet nights of passion in his bed or hers, hands running up her sides, over her skin, long kisses and slow thrust in and out of her body. Running his tongue over her breasts, her nipples, burying his head in the crook of her neck and coming inside her, hips shuddering and jerking. Her legs wrapped around him, holding him close, holding him safe, her own orgasm a beautiful breath of his name against his cheek.

This other Jack hadn’t lived.

This other Jack had never done the opposite. Had never tied up and tortured Sam Carter until she was begging. This other Jack had never had the chance to discover her little trove of toys -- handcuffs and vibrators, blindfolds, bondage rope. This other Jack had never had her own her knees, blindfolded and her hot, wet mouth around him, coming down her throat until she gagged. This other Jack had never played any power games with her, had never handcuffed her spread out on his bed, had never filmed himself jacking off over her body, fucking her violently until she was screaming in pain and pleasure.

This other Jack had never made Sam scream.

Or smile while wrapped in bed together on a rare day off. Or made her breakfast. This other Jack had never invaded her shower time just to push her up against the wall and fuck her against the tiles, wet and hot and so much fun.

Admittedly, this other Jack had never had to sneak around either, sneak from her quarters at 3am or hide his care at her house, take her out to dinner the next town over but it had all been worth it because now, ten years later and he was in Washington and they were out of danger. He wasn’t starting from the beginning and he had all those memories and few regrets.

His Sam had told him later on, after their encounter, that this other Jack had only kissed Sam due to viruses, imaginations, and a stolen opportunity during the time loop (he’d spent so many loops just having sex). He’d never had her body and he didn’t even say it, didn’t even need for Sam to tell him all those things. He could see it in the other man’s eyes. There was an element of despair that Jack knew all too well and he knew what would rid him of it. This other Jack had never had Sam’s body but probably had no idea that he had her heart regardless. This other Jack had never heard Sam tell him she loved him.

That made the decision worthwhile. That made that first, stupid kiss a good decision. And while he had to wonder what part of his life was down to his decision to kiss her -- and her decision not to slap him and throw him out of her quarters -- he couldn’t think about it too much. It hurt his head and this wasn’t going to help this other Jack, standing in front of him, waiting for him to leave, wanting him to leave because with his own Sam draped on his arm from time to time, when it was appropriate (and sometimes when it wasn’t) for this man’s reality had been a step too far. Jack should’ve known maybe, but he couldn’t imagine how he was feeling. Ten years. Ten years, of Sam Carter so close yet always a step away, a moment still to wait, a word yet to say.

As far as Sam explained it, there was an alternate reality for every decision he had and had not made and the only comfort he could offer this other Jack O’Neill was that he wasn’t the only one out there who had never held Sam Carter while she slept.


End file.
